


Get what you want

by 3dgy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Anal, Dirty Talk, HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE THIS MY GOD, Hate Sex, I hate tags, M/M, Or not, PWP, Violence, YES this is definitely pwp, at least its consensual, but p much, dom!bp, dont even ask me, i guess, its not completely hellish just a little bit, mettapants - Freeform, peen!metta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:23:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3dgy/pseuds/3dgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having the hots for his boss was a nuisance he constantly tried to ignore. He blamed it on him looking good in the EX body or on himself not getting laid; otherwise, Mettaton was just an insufferable, obnoxious prick, right?</p><p>Just Mettapants PWP, nothing else, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get what you want

Burgerpants just _hated_ to have his boss around while he worked. One of the reasons why he did was that things escalated too quickly; Mettaton's overhyped lifestyle disrupted his calm in the most harsh and obnoxious manner. It took incredibly short for him to lose control over the situation; he barely said or did something and there went a handful of glitter in his face, the glamburger intended for the customer down Mettaton's throat and once even Burgerpants' face in the trash can. The robot paid his visits at random, probably to catch his employee off guard. He would come anytime from lunch break to 2 AM and the worst thing was, Mettaton was so much at the top of the business food chain that he could do this without any consequences. He pestered the cat to no end, filming all of their interactions (of course); he pretended to trip over Burgerpants, making him lose both his balance and the three glamburgers he was carrying. He made sexual innuendos leaning uncomfortably close to him while the patties were being cooked, such as "aah, look at it, it's leaking already" or "honey, that piece of meat is too big, it's not gonna fit". He stomped on his feet with heels. He was unbearable.

  
During the bullying, the 19-year-old tried to focus his mind on how to convince Mettaton to leave him alone. At least he could get his mind off what was happening around him. Kind of. The problem was, he couldn't find any good reasons. He, Burgerpants, wasn't a valuable part of the whole showbiz system calibrated around the robot. He was replaceable. Even if Mettaton was decreasing sales by preventing the cat from working, well -besides the fact that he wasn't- they were HIS sales anyway.

  
That time, too, he walked in without even saying anything, with his outrageously tight leggings and high heels, stepping behind Burgerpants and looking over his shoulder for things to nitpick about the burgers. Had he not worn those _things_ on his legs, he wouldn't have been able to do that (he was actually shorter than how he looked on TV). The boots were most likely another ego-booster and made Burgerpants think he might have an inferiority complex. This didn't change how horrible the shoes looked, but he was Mettaton and whatever look he sported, it would instantly become fashionable.

  
Burgerpants had to admit that his new body was, in fact, more aesthetically pleasing than the old one. No wonder Mettaton had made an even bigger fuss about it than usual. Newspapers claimed that the body was "professionally made to resemble human anatomy 100%", based on "extensive studies and research on video tapes from the surface". Burgerpants only had faint memories of elementary school and how they used to study the bodies of humans in order to notice and capture them more easily. He didn't remember about it, but if all humans had legs that could inadvertedly wrap around your neck from behind, monsters were going to have a bad time after the destruction of the barrier.

  
He stumbled as said leg was still pulling him backwards. His paws were desperately stretching towards the half-made glamburger on the counter, accompanied by choking noises. One of the things his boss usually told him was that the burgers were "more important than his wellbeing" and "if he didn't like this, he should just quit the job". Burgerpants didn't really have a choice in the matter, though. The less embarrassing reason was that he was completely broke and he wouldn't have had enough money to sustain himself while looking for another job. As for the embarrassing one...

  
He couldn't even begin that train of thought because the pull of Mettaton's leg had gotten too strong and Burgerpants fell backwards, silently hoping not to full-on bump his head into an edge or the floor. He didn't. Instead, he ended up in a rigid, diagonal position between the stove and the counter in the middle of the kitchen (if you could even call the back of a fast-food restaurant that way). And the reason why he didn't have brain damage by smashing the back of his head into solid wood was that he didn't, in fact, smash his head into solid wood. There was something else behind him. The only hint he got from where he was were legs wrapped around him, crossing over his neck.

  
And god, did he tense up. They were there, the body parts the whole underground longed for. And they were probably made of silicone because they felt _soft_ and _plush_ as they agressively restrained Burgerpants' body. Naturally, he started wondering what they would feel like and that was the one thought that started the avalanche of pictures in his mind of those legs spreading, trembling or being put over his shoulders. When the cat realized what kind of fantasies he was having, the expression on his face changed to that of someone who just drank a bottle of pure lemon juice.

  
"You look horrified, darling."

  
It was really and unmistakenly Mettaton, though Burgerpants caught no other sight of him than his characteristical thighs. He was dumbfounded as to when the star had sat on the counter and ultimately decided that trying to distract himself was _definitely_ the wrong tactic during his visits. He got the urge to slap himself in the face. Mettaton wanted attention and now he went from his I-want-to-piss-off Burgerpants mood to angry from not getting any.

  
"You are ignoring me, aren't you?" he lowered his tone, confirming the vendor's previous thoughts.

  
"I-I was trying to pay attention to my job, sir..."

  
Oh, how he hated his voice in that moment, full of fear and submission. Burgerpants didn't want to be someone like that. His biggest wish was to make an actual comeback at his boss just once and sometimes he was _really_ about to do it... Fortunately, he had some kind of safety feature in his mind censoring his words and preventing him from getting fired.

  
"I'm not sure whether you're so eager to please or just looking for excuses-" he purred, finally letting go of his neck.

  
Burgerpants silently slid his back down in order to sit on the floor, attempting to escape the situation.

  
"Although-" Mettaton continued "You look both subservient and cowardly."

  
He got up and moved in the other direction, examining the 'kitchen' around him. Burgerpants worked there alone and managed keep it quite orderly despite his insane working schedule with no pause for cleaning up. That didn't mean Mettaton couldn't find flaws in it, though. His pink heels clicked on the yellow tiles of the floor, making a slightly metallic sound as he walked around. Burgerpants stared blankly at nothing with a lowered gaze, having already been scolded for getting back to work. His perspective just _coincidentally happened_ to be at the same height as Mettaton's ass. He wasn't looking at anything, not at all.

  
"Such a tidy workplace... Have you been taking time off work to clean it so thoroughly, darling?"

  
"Doesn't- take long to clean. I just p-pay attention not to dirty things in the first place." the cat muttered.

  
Something foreign sparked in Mettaton's artificial eyes. He looked like he just had the best idea of his life and was thinking about ways to put it in act. Was it a new way to torture Burgerpants? Probably yes.

  
"Say, Burgerpants..." the robot suddenly said, putting a gloved hand on the cooking panel and tapping with his fingers. The name rolled off his tongue with some kind of sick pleasure.

  
"Weren't you a fan of me or something?"

  
Said 'fan' swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He knew there were _right_ and _wrong_ answers to that question, just like in MTT's dumb quiz shows. Talking to him was just that, in fact. A multiple choice test... Where none of the choices seemed correct.

  
"I was, sir."

  
His well-cured artificial eyebrow twitched. Wrong answer.

  
"So you're not anymore? Why is that?"

  
Burgerpants decided to think this one through more than his previous answer. Since his boss had come in, he had already sweated a starfait's equivalent of water. Mettaton didn't wait for the answer, fortunately. He probably realized that too much dramatic tension would be boring for the viewers (once again, everything was being broadcast). He slowly approached his employee and put a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was so exaggerated that it would've looked ridiculous to anyone not used to Mettaton's customs.

  
"Sometimes... I feel like you hate me, darling. It makes me so sad..."

  
"A-as a subordinate, I look at you in a s-strictly professional manner, sir."

  
"But that's exactly the problem with you!" Mettaton shouted in his overdone emotionally wounded-act. He striked a pose, finger pointing at the middle of the vendor's face.

  
"You're so cold and apathetic all the time... Show some passion! Of course you feel undetermined if you don't cherish your workplace bonds!"

  
"B-bonds?" Burgerpants stuttered. The latter outburst almost made him have a heart attack and now his face was kind of trying to retract into his neck from the shock, resulting in another absurd expression. _Bonds, huh?_ He thought. _Some bonds around your arms and legs would be nice._ He winced, as if Mettaton could read his mind.

  
"Yes, sweetheart. We'll do a private interview, right now! Take a seat!" MTT's robotic arms extended to the back of the kitchen to grab two pink, glittery plastic chairs and place one in front of Burgerpants, the other underneath himself. He waved away the cameraman outside the Burger Emporium. Bad sign.

  
"I'm not- sure I have anything in-interesting to say right now." the cat said, sitting down hesitantly.

  
"That's a good thing, because _you_ will be interviewing _me_."

  
Burgerpants couldn't say that was unexpected.

  
"So, maybe you want to ask me why I agreed to do this interview in the shitty kitchen of my own fast-food restaurant with a complete loser like you?" the cat opened his mouth but MTT didn't give him enough time to speak.

  
"Well, while I must admit that it's stressful to deal with someone who's so utterly bad at their job, I know my presence fills my employees with determination." the star crossed his legs, as part of a dramatic pose. His interviewer cringed really hard.

  
"You might also want to know why we're doing this interview so _intimately_ off-show" he mewled as he leaned forward, elbows on his knee. Burgerpants knew he was trying to disorient him and only hoped he could keep his cool. But really, why were they?

  
"Why are we, sir?"

  
"Hm, let's see. Because some complaints I have about you could be inappropriate for a family friendly TV show~" he whispered, leaning in even more. Burgerpants' eyes widened as he tried to back away. The counter was directly behind his chair. Shit. Mettaton stood up. Shitshitshitshitshit...

  
"I thought I made myself clear all the times I said you were a pathetic nothing" he said, voice stone cold without the usual sugar coating. "But I still can't wipe that annoying, _snarky_ little pout off your face." Burgerpants felt the texture of satin gloves and two fingers forcefully lifting his chin. Despite his cruelty, the other still looked like a diva, body weight on one toned leg and other hand on his hip.

  
"When will you ever understand that you're worthless?" his face was so close to the vendor's as he spoke that he could feel the air blowing out of his system through his mouth; the artificial equivalent of a breath. 

  
"You should be worshipping me by now for not firing you yet, and what do you do? You complain about your pitiful life to customers to bring them down. You shouldn't do that, darling." he shoved a boot-clad foot in the cat's chest who was trying to muffle a painful scream.

  
"Why aren't you smiling yet, _darling_?" Mettaton chuckled as his heel still dug into his employee's sternum "Seriously, I could be getting off on how adorably stubborn you are when all you do is fail. I'm saving the memory of this moment for later use"

  
And that was the last straw.

  
When things escalated too quickly around you, you had to follow their pace to keep control. And that's how the Underground's most adored idol ended up shoved against a counter, in a position he never would've imagined to be. The only sounds before complete silence were an interrupted 'What?' and the clunk of metal against wood.

  
" _What do you think you're doing_?"

  
"I'm-" the vendor panted, trying to ignore the feeling of regret overflowing in his mind "I'm preventing you from shitting on me, at last."

  
He thought that would be the climax of his anger, but the next moment he noticed something which made his sense of guilt vanish completely.

  
Mettaton was smiling. His pretty, silver-ish silicone face wore the sweetest and purest smile, even cute, maybe. There was nothing sick and contorted about it, he just seemed genuinely happy about something. And Burgerpants punched.

  
It wasn't the strongest hit he could manage and he felt a little weak because of that, but it was nothing in comparison to how long he had just sat there and endured. His boss' face was smooth on the surface and kind of hard underneath. The impact made a dull _thud_ and turned his head slightly to the left.

  
Burgerpants looked at his immobile, disheveled and still not really shocked superior, fuming with anger. It was now obvious that this had been planned ahead. His sense of inadequacy started to come back as soon as he realized that he ended up effectively between his boss' legs and _wait_. Was that a bulge? Why was there a bulge? And before he realized that staring at it would probably make things worse, Mettaton had already noticed his gaze.

  
"Well?" the robot asked, acting like nothing happened "Is even your _revenge_ going to be half-assed?"

  
The 19-year-old felt pressure on his back. He was suddenly pulled towards his boss by a leg hooked around him. He could've composed an essay about how he felt in that moment. And the title would've been 'What the fuck is going on'. He tried to collect his thoughts as he panted, hands on the wooden surface... with a curiously examining Mettaton between them. Okay, so he was pinning his superior to a kitchen counter during work hours because he was angry; and the guy had an erection, apparently. Actually, Burgerpants' infamous pants were starting to feel uncomfortable, too. _Wait_.

  
Having the hots for his boss was a nuisance he constantly tried to ignore. He blamed it on him looking good in the EX body or on himself not getting laid; otherwise, Mettaton was just an insufferable, obnoxious prick, right? Burgerpants expected more of himself than popping a boner in that situation like in a cheap porno. But his body had decided to go against his inner self restraint. And there he was, between that asshole's amazing thighs, with a painfully hard dick, subjecting to his games again.

  
"How much more obvious do we need to be about this?" Mettaton asked, losing his patience. He yanked Burgerpants' dirty, red T-shirt and pulled him down only to roughly press their lips together. The vendor suddenly found a metallic tongue in his mouth, probably the strangest thing he had experienced in a while. He awkwardly tried to respond to the kiss which only weirded him out more. The _screws_. He could feel the _goddamn screws_ on that tongue.

  
The heel of Mettaton's pink boot trailed down on the other's back. He gave the feline's hip a playful kick. Burgerpants' eyes widened as he was suddenly pressed tightly against the superstar. His inner voice was screaming ' _I'm horny_ '. Alright, but it was his employer. He was male. And he was a robot. He also had great legs and was now moaning and writhing beneath him. The situation was more than a little conflicting.

  
Mettaton grabbed his neck and pulled him down again. He was lying on the counter by then. He stroked the fur on his nape and leaned close to his ear. The subject of his sudden assault was sweating buckets.

 

"Want me to spell it out? I-Want-You-To-Fuck-Me."

  
He wanted _what_? Burgerpants almost fainted.

  
But no, he couldn't leave the situation at that. He had to get himself together and remember how awful this person had been to him. How he'd never been on vacation. How he was constantly abused while he was just peacefully trying to do his work. How he had started to become neurotic and resorted to smoking. This was the only time for him to prove that he had some guts. He was in control here and Mettaton was complying too, for some odd reason. It was the right occasion. And he'd definitely get good sex out of it.

  
The robot emitted a sound which was halfway between a surprised gasp and a moan when the other slammed his shoulders down. Burgerpants had no idea how, but Mettaton was blushing. Was that part of the famous 'human-based anatomy'? Most likely. He could only hope that the rest of the artificial body wasn't goint to be too complicated. He grabbed a leg and yanked the boot down, revealing the usual silicone skin with metal joints. Despite his change of attitude, the cat's movements were erratic and rushed. They were not seductive at all, but they made Mettaton let out a silent 'Ahhh...' anyway.

  
After repeating the process for the other shoe, all that was left were those obscene leggings which were less worksafe on the star than if he walked around naked. How much had Burgerpants observed them on TV! It was hard not to, really, when MTT's productions were being show nonstop on a screen inside the Burger Emporium, without any possibility to turn the device off. He had watched the robot twist and turn in those form-fitting pants and the display would've looked repulsive or ridiculous if it weren't for how arousing it was.

  
He got rid of those too and found himself wondering whether humans all had segmented penises or the organ before him was a result of poorly-done research. Mettaton, he noted, also had something similar to precum: a pink, glowing fluid like the one in the heart-container on his belly. Burgerpants tried not to be creeped out by the image and ran a paw along his right thigh, groping and kneading the synthetic flesh. He was amazed at himself for how cocky he was behaving and wondered where was the line between respect and disrespect for his boss he couldn't cross.

  
"Aaaaah... Darling..." the robot hissed with a hint of pain in his voice. His employee looked in horror at the place he had just touched, noticing a small mark which hadn't been there before. _He had just scratched his partner out of excitement_. Well, MTT seemed to like it. Better play it off as intentional.

  
Burgerpants lowered himself to kiss him again, biting the other's lip with his pointy teeth. He was too curious not to try that after the earlier incident. Confirming his theory about masochism, Mettaton moaned even louder than before and forcefully grabbed the back of his head, fingers entangling with his fur. Their erections were pressing together which was relieving and a little uncomfortable at the same time.

  
What bewildered and oddly aroused the feline was that the more he tried to be aggressive, the less Mettaton fought it, ultimately proving that he got off on pain. Was that the reason he was letting him do this? He didn't know nor did he care in that moment. The best part was right ahead.

  
Burgerpants, covered in sweat, pulled away from his partner and took a good look at him. His boss was lying on the counter in complete submission before him, dick fully erect and legs spread. His heart-container was brimming with pink liquid; a few drops trailed down his stomach and side as his chest heaved up and down. Mettaton was staring impatiently at his employee with a half-lidded eye and mouth gaping open. None of his fans had ever seen anything like this. The cat's penis twitched a little more.

  
"What are you waiting for?..." the robot breathed out in the middle of the prolonged silence.

  
"Hm, I wonder what I should do now..." Burgerpants said, nonchalantly stepping back between the robot's legs, tapping his fingertips on the top of the counter. His dick was right in front of what he presumed to be his anus (at least judging from the position of the hole).

  
"Hnn... Please..." Mettaton squirmed.

  
"Please _what_ , sir? I can't fulfill such a vague order."

  
"PLEASE just fuck me hard... I need it so much right now... Darling... Please..."

  
Burgerpants would've loved to play that game some more, but he was in a desperate need of release, too. And so he thrust his dick inside his boss, going all the way in with the forceful movement. His mind was blank from just how _insanely_ good it felt to be sheathed. In fact, he started panting too, due to the sensation. He was now entirely sure that the opening had been made for sex (the royal scientist considering Mettaton's possible preferences in advance?), otherwise there was no way it could've stimulated a penis in the best possible way. The robot was probably feeling just as good considering how he was rolling his eyes back in that moment with his voice completely gone.

  
As soon as Burgerpants had finished reveling in the feeling, he started to move. He skipped the part where he started at a slow pace and grabbed both Mettaton's thighs to fuck him senseless. The latter was blabbering disconnected sentence fragments interrupted by groans.

  
"Ahhhhhh... Yes... Darling... Harder!!..."

  
The cat let go of all his self restraint and only focused on the stimulation and the moaning mess under him; his asshole boss, the guy he hated the most, the irritating and egotistical idol... And in that moment, between two thrusts (accompanied by the sound of metal rhytmically slapping against wood), he realized that he wanted to do this all along. Mettaton was sexy, exaggeratedly, obnoxiously, unattainably sexy. His sexiness had been shoved in Burgerpants' face every day of his life and the deep lust he felt had to be removed from his brain by repression not to make him go insane.

  
And he finally had it, he had what made him keep doing his shit job. Mettaton was under him, eager and wanton, and him, Burgerpants, was buried inside the superstar. It felt amazing. The cat let out a rather loud moan.

  
"Ahh... Haaaah... Yeah, right there... I'M SO CLOSE...!" Mettaton whined as he tensed up on the edge of his release and tightened around his partner. He came, releasing pink fluid all over himself, the counter and the kitchen floor, screaming a last 'Oooh yes!!!'. Burgerpants climaxed a moment later, riding it out and enjoying it to its fullest. It was the best orgasm he had ever had.

  
Fifteen minutes later, after the 19-year-old was forced to clean up everything and they silently got dressed, reality still hadn't kicked in yet. Burgerpants sat on the concrete steps of the restaurant's backdoor while Mettaton leaned against the railing as he waited for his limousine, classy and composed as ever.

  
"You know what?" he said, turning around. He was looking more at the cigarette in the feline's mouth than his employee himself.

  
"You should really get laid sometimes. It would help you control those urges of yours."

  
"When am I supposed to do that when I barely have enough time off from work to sleep properly?" a still stunned-by-disbelief Burgerpants replied. The robot chuckled in his slightly reverberating and mechanical voice.

  
"The important thing is," the star said as he stood up and walked towards the limousine which had arrived in the meanwhile "to learn to get what you want, darling."

  
As Mettaton waved and rushed away in his car, Burgerpants started wondering if he had just gotten a raise.

  
But that wasn't even really necessary anymore, was it?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am ready to go to hell.
> 
> I also apologize for the Undertale puns, in case they were a nui-Sans-e.


End file.
